


Aftermath of a War: Neville Longbottom's Backstory

by Hirora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 23:16:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hirora/pseuds/Hirora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though never locked in a cupboard under the stairs, Neville Longbottom spent his childhood trapped in the shadow of his parents' heroic deeds under the critical gaze of his grandmother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath of a War: Neville Longbottom's Backstory

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as part of a midterm for a literature class that I took. Yes, my college offers a literature class on Harry Potter, and yes, the teacher required us to write a piece of fanfiction for both the midterm and final. Most awesome class ever.

The healers of the St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries stared, as discretely as they could, at the stuffed vulture perched upon the head of, one, Augusta Longbottom. The hat rendered one of the younger healers dumbfounded. Gaze riveted, he rolled his medical trolley straight into a wall. It was not the first time that many of the healers had seen the ludicrous hat bobbing up and down the hallway, but each subsequent sighting was no less shocking than the first.

The hat added a good half meter to Mrs. Longbottom's already tall and very formidable stature. The tips of the vulture's outstretched wings grazed the top of the ceiling with every bounce. The severe look on her face was only emphasized by the severe angles of her bone structure; her heated glare peering over high-cheekbones. One shriveled, claw-like hand held onto a very large, red hand bag which was bulging at its seams. When she moved that same hand up to adjust her hat, the bag came with it; one healer could swear that when the items inside the bag moved around, he heard the snap of a mouse trap. As that healer looked back toward Mrs. Longbottom's hat, she caught his gaze, giving him an icy glare. He looked very quickly back down at his file. With a harrumph, Mrs. Longbottom quickened her pace making sure to hold tightly with the hand opposite her purse. Attached to said hand was a terrified looking boy, cheeks red as his grandmother's purse, who stumbled upon his grandmother's quickened pace.

Augusta Longbottom tilted her head back toward the boy. Pursing her lips, she gave him a look that said: I dare you to trip again ,boy.

With a squeak, Neville Longbottom stared at the floor and quickened his pace, taking extra care not trip over his own feet.

A healer was waiting for them when they arrived at the front desk. No one said a thing as the healer took them up the lift which opened up to the Janus Thickey Ward located on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's. This ward made for the long-term residency of witches and wizards affected by spell damage.

Near the end of a very long hallway Mrs. Longbottom hesitated just outside the door labeled with the tags: Alice Longbottom and Frank Longbottom. When she nodded her head, with the barest of tilt of her chin, the healer unlocked the door allowing Mrs. Longbottom and Neville to enter.

"These are your parent's, Neville. Go on then. Say hello." He took one hesitant step forward before looking back at his grandmother. "Go along, Neville," She hissed through her teeth as she swatted his behind with her giant purse causing him to take a large step forward.

Glancing shyly toward the two single beds occupying opposite sides of the room, Neville whispered, "'Lo Mum. 'Lo Dad."

The two occupants stared blankly back at Neville. Mrs. Longbottom helped herself to an available seat while Neville stood frozen in the center of the room.

This was the first time that Neville's grandmother had brought him along with her to visit. Four months ago, just after his fifth birthday, she had sat him down and told him of all the great things his parents had done for the wizarding world. "Great Aurors, they were. Defied You-Know-Who three times at that. " His grandma had told him with a proud smile on her face. On her lap sat a long, rectangular box that she stroked every so often until finally she took a deep breath and opened it. "This is your father's wand. If you get your Hogwarts letter, it will be yours."

Neville had felt very ashamed when his grandmother said if instead of when. He hadn't showed any signs of magic yet despite the various attempts from relatives to goad it out of him. His great-uncle Algie had knocked him off the Blackpool pier once, but Neville had almost drowned. After another uncle had fished him out, he sat in the kitchen staring down at his flooded shoes trying to ignore the disappointed looks from his grandmother and the looks of pity from the rest of his family. A real wizard would have floated right up out of the water and in to the sky, he thought. I'm nothing but a… He gulped as he thought of the word whispered by his family, the one that they thought he couldn't hear. I'm nothing but a no good…squib.

His grandmother told him all the details surrounded his parent's admittance into St. Mungo's. How they were tortured into insanity by Voldemort's followers. His grandmother had pulled a hanky from her giant, red purse and honked into it before finishing their conversation.

"If you don't show magic soon…what good was your parent's sacrifice if you aren't living in our world to enjoy it?" Neville had never liked crying in front of his grandmother. She always snapped at him to quit it, to be strong like his parents. Neville had nodded his head and then high-tailed it straight to his room where he cried, out-of-sight, for the rest of the night.

Now, here he was looking at his parents for the first time in real life. His grandmother had showed him a picture album before coming but it left him completely unprepared. In the pictures, his parents were so full of life and happiness. One picture that Neville had stolen from the album when his grandmother wasn't looking was of his parents cradling a baby Neville, looking down at him with all the love in the world. Now? Now they looked as if they'd never known a Neville Longbottom in their entire life. His grandmother told him that they wouldn't remember, that they didn't even remember their own names, but Neville had hoped that maybe once they had seen him, that maybe, just maybe…but no, that was just wishful thinking.

Neville started to sniffle when his grandmother struck up a one-sided conversation with his parents. She received no more response than blank stares and slow blinks. Finally, she dug around in her purse and pulled out two small bags filled with treats that she handed to Neville. "Give your parents their Christmas presents, Neville."

Neville took the bags and help them at arm's length toward his parents. When they made no move to receive it, he stumbled over to each bed and sat a bag down beside each. His mother was the first to react, picking up the bag and reaching inside to pull out a treat. Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. It had been his mother's favorite. Slowly, she unwrapped the blowing gum and put a piece in her mouth. She handed the wrapper back to a stunned Neville who held the crumpled wrapper like it was the most precious thing in the world.

"Oh, how lovely dear," said Mrs. Longbottom in a voice as artificially sweet as the small piece of candy. "We should probably be heading off." She stood up and held her place for just a moment before moving to place a kiss on the top of both Alice's and Frank's heads. "We'll come back and see you soon." Neither looked like they had heard a word that she had said, nor felt the kiss that she had placed on their heads. Instead, their focus was on the bright window and the head of their beds. "Say goodbye to your parents, Neville, and then come along."

Neville murmured a goodbye and when neither paid him attention, he decided against giving them a hug. He stared at the gum wrapper reverently before tucking it into his pocket. As soon as the door was shut snuggly behind them, Neville's grandmother turned toward him, hand held out expectantly. The wrapper weighed his pocket down like a stone. He pretended to search his pockets and then mumbled, "Musta dropped it on my way out."

She stared at him, eyes uncharacteristically moist, before shaking her head. "No sense grandson." The volume of her voice didn't change with what came out next, but the severity of her tone increased ten-fold. "The world lost a great witch and wizard when this happened to your parents. The same world that they helped make for you. You've a long way to go if you want to even begin to deserve it." She then took his hand and pulled him along to the exit.

He looked back over his shoulder to get one last glance at his parent's room before he was pulled out of the ward. Neville didn't dare cry under his grandmother's ever watchful gaze but he fingered the gum wrapper in his pocket the whole way home as he thought over and over again, you got to be brave, Neville. Just like mum and dad.


End file.
